


Balance

by Kahvi



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-29
Updated: 2006-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:50:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The David Lister in Ace Rimmer's dimension contemplates how things might have been different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

David Lister climbed awkwardly out of his overalls, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and stumbled towards the bathroom. Half-way to the door, he hesitated, sighed a little, and went back to collect them. Once in the bathroom, he dumped them in the laundry basket, and nodded, satisfied. He hadn't bothered to fold them neatly, but at least they weren't just "lying about the house".

Rubbing his sore muscles, he stepped into the shower, immediately realizing his mistake, and went back out again to take off his now soaking wet underpants and socks. It had been one of those days.

He could see himself in the mirror from where he was standing, and before stepping back into the warm, inviting water, he rubbed his chin. A bit too much stubble; he'd have to shave before dinner. Returning to the cubicle, he slumped against the wall, quietly contemplating whether he had the energy to lather himself up with soap or not. He decided against it in the end, a pang of guilt hitting him as he realized it wouldn't go unnoticed. Maybe if he used a lot of after-shave?

When he felt he couldn't justify lingering there any longer, he stepped out, dried himself off, and reached for the shaver. As he was about to plug it in, there was a tentative knock on the door, and a familiar voice sounded; "Is that you dear?"

"Yeah, darlin'," Lister answered, the shaver poised close to his chin.

"Well, hurry up, dinner's almost ready."

"I'll be right there." He turned the shaver on, letting it run across his chin and cheeks, carefully navigating around his upper lip. He met his own gaze in the mirror just as he was turning the shaver off, and something made him hesitate just at the edge of his well-kept mustache. He couldn't even remember what he looked like without it. He was about to turn the shaver back on, when the voice came again;

"Are you alright in there?"

"I'm fine," he answered, putting the shaver down.

He dressed in the casual slacks and shirt that had been placed on the bathroom floor for him, neatly folded and smelling faintly of lavender. Going down the hallway to the dining-area, he stifled a yawn, and tried to smile cheerfully. "What's for dinner?" he asked, kissing Krissie lightly on the cheek as he sat down in the chair opposite her.

"Vegetable stir-fry." She smiled back at him, briefly.

"Again?"

"The kids like it. Bexley would have eaten the lot if I hadn't put it in the oven with the child safety on. Takes after you that boy does. Anyway, I thought you liked veggie stir-fry?" She unfolded her napkin, and arranged it on her lap.

He shrugged. "Well, I was just thinking we could do take-out some time. Y'know. Just for a change."

She gave him grim look. "We had Indian last month."

"I didn't say Indian. It wouldn't necessarily have to be Indian." He helped himself to a nice portion of the steaming dish on the table.

"That's all you ever want." She poured him a glass of water. He looked at the glass forlornly, but said nothing.

"So're the kids asleep? Took an early night, did they?"

Krissie smiled again, deftly picking up her chopsticks. "It's half eleven Dave."

"Oh," he fumbled with his own sticks, embarrassedly.

"Long shift, was it?"

"Well, yeah. Sorry for keepin' you up so long, waiting."

"'S alright." They ate in silence for a while, but under the table, Krissie's feet kept brushing against his legs.

* * *

"Do you ever wonder," Lister said later, as they were brushing their teeth, "about all those other dimensions Ace was talking about?"

"Mnfphf?" Krissie replied, her mouth full of tooth-paste and recycled star-base water.

"Y'know, the ones he's off exploring. 'Supposed to be an alternate version of everyone there. Him, you, me, everyone."

"Right," Krissie said, placing her deep-red toothbrush in the cup next to his. She didn't seem all that interested.

"Well do ya?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Awfully brave of him to go off like that, not knowing what's out there. I could never do that. What a guy, eh?" She kissed him softly on the cheek, and brushed her arm against his as she passed him.

"Yeah." Lister's mind was filled with stars and moons and planets, and the infinite worlds out there for Ace to explore. "But… That's just it, isn't it? I mean, somewhere in the multiverse there IS a Kristine Kochanski who would go out there, who didn't leave Red Dwarf to marry me, who's off into space somewhere, havin' the time of her life. Imagine that!"

Krissie turned in the doorway, and looked towards him, her head askew. "Right. And somewhere there's a Dave Lister who didn't bother to win me back when I left him. Who didn't enroll in astro-mechanics class just to impress me and turned his life around. And that David Lister would still be a lowly third class tech onboard a mining-ship. For the rest of his life!" She sidled towards him, her dressing-gown, not entirely fastened, slipping open as she did so. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. When she was close enough that he could feel her breath warming his face, she leaned over, and whispered into his ear; "Now, which one would you want to be, right now?"

* * *

Later, as Krissie slept soundly besides him, snoring ever so gently, Lister slipped out of bed. Carefully, he walked the short distance to the twins bedroom, and opened the door just enough to peer inside. The boys, safely tucked into nearly identical race-car beds that their uncle Ace had made for them for their last birthday, stirred a little, but didn't wake. Lister watched them for a little while, then sighed. He closed the door, trying to figure out whether he was more thirsty, or hungry, or tired, realized he was neither, but shuffled to the kitchen anyway. Deep within the fridge he found a flat, half-finished can of Leopard Lager, but it smelled more like cabbage than anything else, and he threw it away in disgust.

As he shuffled his way back to the bedroom, he thought of those countless other David Listers. How somewhere, out there, there was a Dave Lister who was taking chances, eating and drinking whatever he liked, whenever he liked. A Lister who didn't have to cut his hair to follow Space Corp mechanic safety rules. A Lister who dared to shave off his facial-hair without worrying about what others would think. A Lister with guts and charisma. As he slipped into the covers beside his sleeping wife, it did make him feel better. Whatever that Lister had done differently from him, he deserved the lot. He, David Lister, family man, had made up for him.

He turned out the lights, and crept closer to his wife, throwing his arm around her. And slept.


End file.
